 | Famine |  |
Hist! hist!
I come
From the fields where the whisper of hope is dumb,
Where the birds forget to sing;
I pinch'd every germ with finger and thumb,
And the charr'd remains I bring—
My Hunger-offering.
I come
From the fields where the whisper of hope is dumb,
Where the birds forget to sing;
I pinch'd every germ with finger and thumb,
And the charr'd remains I bring—
My Hunger-offering.
| Famine | |